


Ease

by crownhearted



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Post-Sburb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-28
Updated: 2012-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-30 06:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownhearted/pseuds/crownhearted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The amount of agony you cause me on a daily basis is directly proportional to the amount of times you say the words “Nic Cage”, “Windy Thing” and do that really awful whiny thing with your voice.”</p><p>"I love you too, Dave."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ease

Dying is easy.

Being the one to die is easier than anything anyone has ever done, Dave thinks. He knows that it is natural, effortless, like falling asleep and never waking up again- blackness, silence, peace; a reprieve from chaos or blood or pain, any confusion or worry or guilt. He knows that it is easy and that the dead are not the ones we should pity, but rather, the living, who grieve.

That is why it is so easy to die. He doesn’t mind seeing his corpse a thousand times, or being stabbed or shot or hit into submission of death. He doesn’t mind being overpowered and then defeated, because death is so natural- so easy. He doesn’t have nightmares about dying, he doesn’t think about it at all when he is awake, he doesn’t talk about it because there’s nothing to say.

Living is the real nightmare here, and Dave doesn’t know why it’s so hard, but he is pretty sure that some blue windy smurf lookalike is responsible for at least part of it. He knows that when blue text clashes with red on his screen, it’s the easiest to see behind his shades. He knows that the jerk’s laugh over a skype call on a Tuesday night is ruining his ears for every other smooth beat he tries to mix for the rest of his life. He knows that nothing will matter more to him than remembering the tiny things this plague says he likes- the smell of new books, honey in the creepy plastic bear-shaped bottles, the look of Skaia, the smoothness of bird feathers.

But he’s pretty sure it’s ruining his life completely, all these things he notes, all these feelings he bottles up tight and locks away.

“The amount of agony you cause me on a daily basis is directly proportional to the amount of times you say the words “Nic Cage”, “Windy Thing” and do that really awful whiny thing with your voice.”

—-

Dave is really easy.

John noticed this a long time ago, when they had never met in person and he was scrolling through old pesterlogs to find the title of some movie Dave had mentioned. He read a few lines and realized just how pushy he was on the guy- and usually, he’d feel a little guilty, but he noticed a pattern; Dave kind of always pined for his attention and approval. He noticed this, and tried to test it, feel the waters, determine how much control over the youngest Strider he really had. He gave up when Dave literally refused to take off the stupid aviators John had bought him as a birthday gift- and he shoved the information back into the recesses of his head, collecting cobwebs.

 He didn’t pay it any mind; he wasn’t going to manipulate or use his best friend, no way. That was all there was to say on the matter.

Time went on. The game was played. The game was reset. Life was weird.

It took very little time for things to settle in enough that John could calm down and notice that he still had this unbelievable pull on Dave. He had the ability to sway his emotions one way or another, and felt weird about it. Dave put so much stock into how he reacted to things- what was going on? Why did he allow this? They had all matured considerably since the game ended, but even so, this matured Dave was so reliant on approval and acceptance.

It was charming, John had to admit. He had always found it charming. He liked the relationship they had, and was content with it for a long while. Or, he totally thought he was.

“I love you, too, Dave.”

—-

Making love is even easier.

They are not always slow and smooth, not always rough and desperate. They are boys and men. They are wind and time. When they kiss it is a meeting of opposite perfection, when they fight it is a hurricane of terrifying beauty. When they lay together at the end of each and every day, they are still the Heir and the Knight, the Hero and the Side, the Red and Blue. Nothing changes. Nothing has, nothing will. It was predictable and sweet in so many ways, the way they ended up. But every day that goes by, Dave Strider remembers when he used to stop time to memorize each eyelash, each curl of his now-lover’s hair, while John Egbert remembers the moments when he would send the breeze to kiss Dave’s cheek and no one would know.

But secretly, even though the game is over and their powers are myths, they use all their minds, all their hearts, all their very souls to do it again. Dave can stop time. John can make them soar. It just takes one meeting of their lips; one kiss.

And that, they agree, is absolutely the easiest.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my contribution to SantaBound! I certainly do not think it is my BEST work, but I am semi-satisfied with it, and hope that the recipient is pleased as well. Gifted to: jadehontas.tumblr.com


End file.
